These unholy acts that keep in a void ItaSasu
by Evelynee
Summary: The characters do not belong to me, they belong to Kishimoto-sama. But a girl can dream.. Think about Silent Hill, a red light and drums in the distance.


It is these unholy acts that keep filling their void, the immorality that is their senses. The heaviest sins of all were always lies to them, as they threw filth upon each other. And for darkness as pitch black as Itachi, words are never enough.

Sasuke was always weaker. Pleasure comes and pleasure goes, and for those weak of hearts, it can never fully leave their minds. As the nights wore on, his big brother Itachi would bleed Sasuke into oblivion, leaving sounds in his soul like shattered glass.

For blood-red eyes can never be deceived, incest is as ersatz as orbs among stars. For the vile and obsidian, sanity is always fingertips away. Lust washes away even the slightest of smiles, in time Sasuke even came to adore these delicious moments. There was never anyone else that would put these marks upon his neck with that traitorous mouth.

They grew accustomed to these apologies to the impure. Every sentence has a meaning. Every moan has a twin. They mewl, bang and they scream (we are always the last to reach the goal). Temptation and decomposing souls were always drawn by the heavy ooze of their desire, for they were never alone.

When the night was younger than the youngest of them, Sasuke suffered from craving hunger. As Itachi hovered over him, drawing him to the peak every time, Sasuke's eyes sometimes even changed its natural black ways into crimson to match his brother's.

And so they rot and wither in each others arms, pushing morality far beyond the borders of the acceptable. We would surely make love to the abominable and the aroused, for we are the same. And so they melt into one, imperfect, being. They sigh and pant, every last word echoes. Every last drop will be swallowed by the youngling.

Their obsessive ways are the only things left that can draw the outlines of the macabre, and therefore, they are driven by hatred so ferocious that one can never look into its eyes without vomiting. As sparks sparkle behind the younger ones eyes, Itachi pushes harder. They were drawn to each other, because they knew that if you played with fire, in the end someone always ended up badly burnt.

_Bang bang baby_

With my hands I tear the flesh of my fingers, with my tears I wash away the dirt. Come make me writhe in agony. Come make me hurt.

Vivisection, oh yes, come feed me sin. They could almost touch the thin veil that was forgiveness, but they never reached for it, they were never on the quest for salvation. The kunai, the heat radiating from the bodies, it all played such a sweet sweet tune, like a piano forgotten for a century.

Itachi always made sure Sasuke understood that he was the weaker, the uke. The symbolism could not be mistaken, as he chained him with his bare hands. Maybe Sasuke hated this. Not that there ever was anything else he would rather do. Temptation grows strong in the hearts of the weak. Putting razorblade kisses upon his little brothers body, Itachi let madness throb through the air, forsaken and tied from the world.

All colours will fade, all material will turn to dust as we reach our own Nirvana. The only things left will be pure lust and unholy pleasures, as we venture through the borders of the mind.

_Bang bang baby_

Sasuke never tried to deny his brother, for he knew that it would be pointless. But in time, he never even wanted to deny him. Itachi was always merciless, but one does crazy things to kill the ferocious pain inside. Together they count on their fingers all the scars they cause each other, together they mark the suffering of the world.

These are the games which we play with each other. For as we fall into darkness, at least we know

We are not alone

Yes

YOU ARE NOT WRONG

There once was a road full of imaginary things, all perfectly within the frame called 'Satisfactory'. That road is long gone now, the road that led to redemption. But, if you stare long enough into the abyss, the abyss will stare back at you.

All sullen moments will never heal; all sore eyes can never shut. Aim. Resentful are the minds of the forgotten. Shoot.

_Bang bang baby_

It is these unholy acts that keep filling their void, the immorality that is their senses. The heaviest sins of all were always lies to them, as they threw filth upon each other. And for darkness as pitch black as Itachi, it is never enough.

_(And for darkness as pitch black as Itachi, it is never enough)_

**Bang bang baby**


End file.
